International Magical Cooperation: Raising Harry 5
by aramie.greyson
Summary: Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, part five of the Rasing Harry series. See profile page for full summary.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Okay, so I feel I owe everyone an explanation as to why this is four months late in getting out to you all. RL sucks bigtime. Computers randomly eating files sucks more. Losing nearly three months worth of work sucks the most. This isn't as good as it was the first time I wrote it, but it follows the same feel, so I guess I have to be happy with it. Sigh.

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**Raising Harry, Part Two  
**_Book Five: La Vida Hogwarts_

**Year Four: International Magical Cooperation**

**Chapter One: Luc, Artie, and Molly Anne**

Ron was sitting under a large oak tree in the front yard of the Burrow, working on finishing up his summer Charms essay, while Ginny and the twins finished up their chores. After that, the four youngest Weasleys were planning on wasting the rest of the afternoon in the pond. Pausing for a moment, Ron looked up from his homework and caught sight of one of the two people he never expected to see walking up the road to the Burrow. "What the…"

"Better not let Mum catch you trying to say that," Ginny said from right behind him. "I think you've been spending too much time with Harry."

Ron ignored her teasing and gestured towards the man striding up the drive, "Am I seeing who I think I'm seeing?"

Ginny nodded, "I would imagine so. Didn't you believe Harry?"

Ron shook his head, "No… I didn't."

"You should know better," Ginny grinned.

Ron shrugged, "Wonder why he's here, though."

"I have no idea… Want to go get Fred and George? I heard they're working on perfecting an eavesdropping device…"

Ron mirrored Ginny's earlier grin, "Sure."

Unfortunately, by the time Ginny and Ron got the attention of the twins, Lucius Malfoy had already disappeared into the house. Their mother met them at the back door and didn't have to say anything – the look on her face was more than enough to warn them that whatever was going on in the kitchen wasn't their business, regardless of how curious they were, and if they pressed too hard, they'd likely find themselves with additional chores for the night. However, they did linger in the vicinity long enough to find that Molly had charmed the windows and doors against eavesdropping.

"Rotten luck, that," Fred said.

"Too true, twin o'mine," George commiserated. "Did we ever figure out if adding taffy to the mix would be enough to keep the listening spells from degrading?"

The twins quickly devolved into a discussion on their experimental 'Extendible Ears' and returned to de-gnoming the garden. Ron headed back to the tree to retrieve his book and Ginny took the opportunity to hurry up to her room, which, as luck would have it, was directly over the kitchen. There was a small vent in the floor that looked down over the kitchen table and her parents didn't seem to know that it was there; neither her mum nor her dad had _ever_ warded it. She'd learned a _lot_ listening in at that vent. She'd learned that using a couple of small mirrors from her play make-up case could afford her with a complete view of the kitchen. Though she now had a real make-up case, she had kept the smaller mirrors from her old toy and often put them to good use. As she watched, she found herself, not for the first time, admiring how_ noble_ and _honorable_ Harry was. She only hoped that someday he would see her as something other than Ron's little sister.

Tucking her wand back into her pocket, Molly turned to take a good look at her one-time friend and lover. "Lucius," was all she said, though her tone was somewhat difficult to describe. Somehow, she managed to stuff those two small syllables with all the anger, sadness, and accusation she hadn't been able to express to the man for over thirty years.

Lucius looked… rather different than his usual, impeccable self. In all honesty, he more resembled who he had been as a sixteen year-old than the man she recalled seeing at Flourish and Blott's two summers prior. He was wearing his normal clothing – opulent robes, today's were a dark navy color with silver edging – but there was something undeniably _unpolished_ about him. It might have been the fact that his hair was hanging loose, or the fact that he wasn't carrying that idiotically ornate cane, or that his boots were covered in the dust from the dirt track outside. He certainly didn't look like the same man who had caused her and Arthur so much heartache.

"Molly Anne?" Molly tore her gaze from Lucius' clothes and took a long look at the man, himself. Despite the many long years since their falling-out, he still looked like the boy she'd known. _That's it!_ she thought. _He looks more like my Lucius than he has since the summer before seventh year!_ It wasn't anything she could really put her finger on, but she could see echoes of the teenaged insecurities lurking behind his eyes, pooled with new shadows – something else that hadn't been there the last time she looked.

"I saw the paper," Molly said at length.

"It's true," Lucius replied.

"So I assumed when I saw you standing on my front porch," Molly set to making tea.

"I know I'll never be able to really make it up to you and Artie, but… I am sorry."

Ginny winced a little, _'Artie'?_ she mouthed, her expression one of disgust._ Dad _hates_ it when people call him that._

Molly sighed and turned to face Lucius. "If the paper was right,_ you_ weren't at fault, Luc."

Again Ginny mouthed the nickname, her disgust-level rising a notch. She did notice that, apparently, the appropriate nickname for 'Lucius' was pronounced 'Luke' and not 'Loosh' as she had assumed. She'd known that Harry had been right about her parents once having been friends with Malfoy, but she hadn't really thought all that much about it. She was finding it almost as disturbing as Charlie's story of accidentally walking in on their parents one night when he'd been ten.

Lucius winced a little, "I let her get the best of me, Molly Anne. I let my guard down, because she was a _third_-year."

"Any reasonable person wouldn't have thought to guard against a thirteen year-old throwing around Unforgivables," Molly handed Lucius a mug of tea.

Ginny wondered what, exactly, they were talking about. She did recall that the _Daily Prophet_ edition of three or four days ago had mysteriously disappeared before she could read the comics, and before Ron could check on the Cannon's standing, and even before the twins could lace the financial section with itching powder – Percy was the only member of the family who read that portion of the paper.

"Even so, I knew she was a _Black_. I _knew_ what they taught their children, I knew what Bellatrix was like… I should have suspected, I should have bloody _known_!" His fist pounded the tabletop to accent the last word.

"Language, Luc. And you were _sixteen_; you were allowed to make silly mistakes."

Lucius closed his eyes, "A silly mistake is betting _against _the Falcons. A silly mistake is putting one's robes on inside-out. A silly mistake is _not_ one that cost me my life."

"You're still alive," Molly, pragmatic as ever, pointed out.

Lucius looked up from his mug and met Molly's eyes, "I meant my life with you. I had _promised_ you –"

_Whoa, hang on a minute here! Were Mum and Malfoy… yuck, I can't believe I'm even _thinking_ this… were they _dating_ in school, and not just friends?_ Unknown to her, Ginny's mouth was doing a reasonable impression of a goldfish.

Molly held a hand over Lucius' mouth, "Stop right there, Luc. Yes, a mistake was made. Does that make you responsible for all the bad things that followed? No. Does that make you responsible for all the good things that followed? No. It just _happened_, and there's nothing we can do to change it at this time, so we'd best make the most of it."

"Ever the optimist, aren't you?" Lucius managed a small, bittersweet smile.

"It's better than being a pessimist," Molly retorted, falling easily into a trade of quips they'd gone through a thousand times before Narcissa changed everything.

Rather than follow Molly's lead, Lucius sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Merlin, Molly Anne. Do you have any idea at all how hard this has been?"

Ginny wondered why Malfoy always addressed her mum with both her first and middle names, instead of just her first. _Aren't nicknames supposed to be _shorter_ than the whole thing?_

Molly took a seat at the table next to Lucius and covered his hands with hers. "Luc… I _don't_ know how difficult these past couple of weeks have been for you; in fact, I don't think I could even begin to imagine it. I don't know what to say to make it better for you, other than I will be here for you, though I can no longer be what we once hoped. I've grown from that girl, Luc. I still care for you, though. I never stopped caring, even when you hurt me and Arthur so horribly. My main regret is that neither of us considered the Imperius as a possibility."

Ginny, who may not have been quite at the same level as Harry at putting things together, was certainly no dunderhead – regardless of what Snape might have said that one time in class when she added too much powdered bicorn horn – and managed to put together part of the story. _So Narcissa had Lucius under the Imperius since he was sixteen? It's a miracle he's still sane. He must have stopped fighting it rather quickly, or else not fought it at all. I wonder what Draco had to say about this?_

Ginny's attention was torn from her thoughts and back to her overhead view of her mum and the elder Malfoy by something she knew she had never heard before. While Ginny's thoughts had run off with her, Lucius was reacting to Molly's little monologue.

It had been a shock every morning to wake up and have complete control of himself. It had likewise been a shock every morning to see a man in the mirror that was rapidly approaching fifty and not the sixteen year-old reflection he wanted, no, _expected_ to see.

Much of his life under Narcissa's curse had a vague, dreamlike quality to it. He could only remember a handful of events with any definitive clarity: The day he'd told Molly Anne and Artie that he didn't want to waste his time with blood-traitors any longer; he particularly remembered the pain on Molly Anne's face as she turned from him and ran down the hall towards her common room. The day Severus Snape broke his arm jumping horses on the Manor's estate; had he been in control of himself, he wouldn't have had Snape ride the thoroughbred, but a steadier quarter-horse instead. The day Narcissa ordered all his precious horses sold; that had been a mere week after Snape's accident. The day Draco had been born… and how he needed to talk with the boy, and _soon_.

The most recent thing he could remember clearly – before Narcissa's curse had been broken – had been the singular presence of an innocent mind in his own. The only other mind that had ever touched his had felt _wrong_ and _dark_ and his own consciousness had instinctively shied away from it. In contrast, the simple curiosity and clean honesty of Potter's mind had demanded his attention in a way that very little else had in the many long years he'd been under the curse. He tried to send a message to the presence he'd felt – at the time, he'd assumed it had been Dumbledore – and retreated, praying to any god that would listen that he'd been heard and understood.

His sense of time whilst under the curse was understandably skewed, and so what seemed to him to be a millennia of waiting later – long enough to lose hope that his message had been received – he suddenly came to himself in the middle of afternoon tea on the balcony of the Manor's master suite, Narcissa slumped in her seat, a broken teacup shattered on the hard stone next to her chair.

His head had reeled at the realization that Narcissa was likely dead for him to suddenly be freed of the curse, and then… He had laughed. He'd laughed like he never had before. He hadn't known if it had been murder or an unfulfilled Unbreakable Vow, or something else entirely; all he had known was that he was _free_. Completely, totally, and blessedly _free_. He'd been startled out of his laughter when the aurors had arrived, a mind-healer in turquoise robes accompanying them. The mind-healer had bustled him off to a different room – one of the guest suites – and proceeded to evaluate his physical and mental health. The two questions the healer had asked him that would haunt him for the rest of his life were 'What year is it?' and 'Do you know what happened to you?'

He'd tried to answer them to the best of his ability. 'The last date I recall clearly is the twenty-eighth of July, 1960, however I am sure that is quite wrong.' The healer had surprised him by chuckling a little at the comment before proceeding to tell him that it was more than thirty years since that day. The second question had left a bitter taste at the back of Lucius' throat. 'I know Narcissa hit me with the Imperius.' He'd answered it as succinctly as he was capable. The healer then went on to tell him that there was nothing wrong with him physically, informed him that Narcissa had been dosed with Draught of Living Death and would be taken to a Ministry holding cell pending trial, and that he should consider talking to a mind-healer on a semi-regular basis if he found that he was having problems coping. Lucius' inner sixteen year-old self balked at the thought of talking to a mind-healer – only crazy people did that! And so, Lucius had done the only thing he could think of when the reality of the situation finally crashed down on him. He'd run to his Molly Anne.

All this passed through Lucius' memory in a blink, and the sound Ginny'd never heard before was that of Lucius breaking down. A nearly-inaudible sob had escaped the man sitting with her mother at the kitchen table. Being only twelve, Ginny didn't have the life-experience to truly understand just what Lucius was going through. She knew, intellectually, that the man below her had lost more years of his life than she or any of her brothers had been alive, but there's a difference between knowing something with the head, and knowing it with the heart. She could tell that her mum understood, though. Even as Lucius broke down, Molly scooted her chair closer to his and pulled him into an awkward hug, much like she'd do for any of her children, patting his back and running a hand through his hair as his head rested on her shoulder. Ginny's only thought was that the scene below her was possibly the most surreal thing she'd ever seen.

Ginny, more than just a little unnerved by the scene she'd witnessed, put her mirrors away and sneaked back out to the front yard. She didn't want – or need – to see any more of what was going on in the kitchen. Not wanting to talk to Ron or the twins either, she headed for the small forest nearby; there was a perfect place to think along the banks of a merrily babbling brook that ran straight through the middle of it, complete with a soft, mossy bank.

Lucius wasn't sure how long Molly had been holding on to him as his emotions rolled merrily out of his control, but he did notice that once he'd managed to bring himself back under some semblance of control, the light had shifted to indicate late evening. "Feeling better?" Molly asked.

Lucius nodded, though the point was debatable. He still felt so many conflicting emotions that he was surprised he could think coherently enough to nod. "Sorry about that, Molly Anne."

Molly shook her head a little, "It was nothing, Luc. I'd do the same for anyone." She stood and retrieved a washcloth from a cupboard over the sink. She wetted it down under the hot-water tap and handed it to Lucius.

"Thanks," he replied, scrubbing the square of material across his gritty eyes and grimy-feeling cheeks.

"Won't you stay for supper?" Molly asked, taking the washcloth and tossing it into the sink.

"If it's not an imposition," Lucius responded. "I do still want to talk to Artie."

Molly narrowed her eyes at Lucius. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you, Luc?"

Lucius' bittersweet smile returned, "No, Molly Anne. I promise. I know I missed my chance and that you and he are happy together. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"In that case, do you remember that recipe for pot-roast I taught you in fifth year?"

Some of the bittersweet quality faded from Lucius' expression, and a more natural, happy expression shone through, "Of course, Molly Anne. It's probably weird, from your perspective, at least, but fifth year was only a year or so ago to me."

Not knowing what to say to that, Molly merely handed Lucius a pairing knife. "Would you peel the potatoes? I need to retrieve some herbs from the garden."

Lucius nodded and rolled his sleeves up while Molly dispelled the privacy charms on the kitchen. He'd just started on the potatoes when she stepped into the back yard, carrying a small basket.

Molly saw that the twins had done well in de-gnoming the garden, and found them leaning against the garden wall, talking about something that sounded suspiciously like 'ton-tongue toffee'. They hushed up when they caught sight of her, however. "Fred, George, come here a moment."

The twins glanced at each other, as though to say, 'What'd we do now?' and apprehensively approached their mother. Molly tucked an errant lock of her graying red hair behind an ear and said, "You did a good job with the garden today. Why don't you see if Mr. and Mrs. Jordan have any objections to you spending the weekend with Lee? Use the floo in the sitting room."

Unwilling to press their luck, the twins sprinted into the house. _Two down, three to go,_ Molly thought. She hurriedly clipped the herbs she'd need for dinner. As she placed the sprig of rosemary in the basket, she shouted for Ron. He appeared in relatively short order, coming around the side of the house. "Yeah, Mum?"

"Go see if you can find Ginny for me, would you?"

"Sure thing. What's for supper?"

Molly smiled fondly at her youngest boy, "It's a surprise. Go find Ginny, please."

Ron took off at a lope, heading for the clearing that they used for flying. _I think Aurilia would agree to looking after those two for the weekend… Now, for Percy. As much as I love the fact that he didn't immediately find a place of his own, I don't need him underfoot this weekend, either. _She headed back into the kitchen and sat the herbs down on the counter. Lucius was nearly done with the potatoes, and so she retrieved the roast pan from its place on the over-the-stove rack. The meat was quickly thawed with a waive of her wand and sat in the pan. "When you're done with those, Luc, would you start on the onions? I need to make a floo call, but I'll be right back."

Lucius nodded to show he'd heard her and returned to finishing peeling the potatoes. Two redheaded boys had torn through the kitchen moments earlier, but hadn't noticed him on their way to the sitting room. "Mum!" one of them called out.

"Lee's parents…"

"…said they don't mind having us over…"

"…and Mrs. Jordan said she still had some of our stuff…"

"…from the last time we visited…"

"…so we'll see you Monday?"

"Yes, dears," Lucius smiled a little at the exasperated tone in Molly's voice. "Behave, or you won't go back for the rest of the summer!"

The sound of the twin boys flooing to their friend's home was quickly followed by Molly's voice. "The Brewer Ranch."

Molly had to wait a moment before the floo was answered. Harry was standing on the other end, somewhat disheveled and sweaty. "Mrs. Weasley. What c'n I do ya for?"

"Hello, Harry. Is your mum around?"

Harry shook his head, "No… She an' Dad ran to Knoxville an' won't be back 'til four or five. Why? Whacha need?"

Molly frowned a bit. "Oh, I wanted to know if she'd watch Ron and Ginny for me for the weekend."

"I know she won't mind none, but iffen y'all c'n wait a mo, I'll ask Dave iffen he c'n do it for ya."

"Thank you, Harry. I'll wait."

While she was waiting, Percy had finally emerged from his room. "Ron and Ginny are going to see Harry?"

Molly jumped a little, she hadn't heard Percy come down the stairs. "If his uncle says he doesn't mind having them. Aurilia and Jim aren't available at the moment."

"Do you think they'd mind if I tagged along?" Molly had to pull her head out of the floo at the tone in Percy's voice. He had a strange expression on his face, one that she'd last seen on Charlie's the first time he'd gotten to see a dragon in person. Percy suddenly flushed and stammered, "I mean… I'd like to go, too. I don't start work at the Ministry until next Wednesday."

Molly recalled that Percy had been writing to one of Harry's Iowa friends. _What was her name? A-something… Aurora! That's it._ Molly gave her son a knowing smile, "I'm sure they won't mind, Percy. Why don't you run upstairs and get packed for the weekend? Pack a bag for Ginny and Ron, too."

Percy grinned and hurried up the stairs fast enough that Molly was sure he couldn't have reached his room faster if he'd apparated. "Mrs. Weasley?" Harry's voice sounded through the floo.

Molly replaced her face in the floo's flames. "Yes, dear. Sorry, Percy had a question for me."

"Uncle Dave said he didn't mind none, an' I asked 'bout Perce, too. Iffen he wants ta, he c'n come, too."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that," Molly replied. "I'll send everyone through in an hour or so, all right?"

Harry nodded, "Sure thing. I'll make sure we got somethin' for 'em ta eat, too. Ain't it comin' on suppertime there?"

"That it is, though I'm sure Ron's excitement at visiting will temporarily override his hunger, at least until you are ready for dinner yourselves."

It took Ron nearly forty minutes to locate Ginny, but his irritation at the long search evaporated when he found out that he got to spend the weekend at Harry's. During that time, Lucius had managed to work his way through cutting the potatoes, carrots, and onions into chunks, and had also minced the majority of the herbs Molly'd picked from the garden. As her children disappeared through the floo, Molly wondered what Lucius did with Draco as the boy hadn't accompanied him to the Burrow.

Molly was pleasantly surprised at the amount of work Lucius had managed in her absence from the kitchen. She allowed him to continue on with the roast while she set to shelling peas. "Where is Draco, Luc?"

Lucius frowned, "At the Manor… He didn't react well when I spoke with him the night he got back from Hogwarts. I can tell he either doesn't believe, or doesn't _want_ to believe what I told him." Lucius finished mincing the parsley and slid it to the side of the cutting board to mingle with the rosemary, garlic, thyme, and marjoram. He looked up at Molly. "He's… disappointing, Molly Anne, and I don't know what to do to fix it."

"Disappointing, Luc? How so?"

Lucius set to work on the last of the fresh herbs – a couple of bay leaves – with a will. "Suffice it to say that Narcissa raised him in 'proper pureblood tradition'. I'd always thought I would be rid of that nonsense after seventh year, but Narcissa… Damn it, why did she have to do it? Why me? I had things I wanted to do with my life, but _none _of it happened!"

"Calm down, Luc. Though I know you're angry, and rightfully so, I might add, it's not going to change anything. As to Draco… Well, I can only say that he'll either come to his senses or he won't. He's fourteen, right?" Lucius paused, thought for a moment, and then nodded. "That's more than old enough to start making his own decisions, and facing the consequences of those decisions. At this point, about the only thing you can do is talk to him, and talk to him again, and _keep_ talking until he listens, and then keep on talking until he _understands_ what happened."

Lucius' stiff posture melted a little, "You're right, Molly Anne. Gods above, we both know that I wish this had never happened, but I need to start dealing with it. I just don't really know where to begin. Merlin, I don't even know what-all Narcissa has had me do. I got a little information from the mind-healer that spoke to me when she was arrested, but the healer didn't know much. Maybe you and Artie can help me figure things out?"

"Of course, Luc," Molly replied, deftly splitting open the last of the peapods and emptying it into the waiting bowl.

Roughly an hour later, the roast nearing done – magic having sped the normal cooking time somewhat – and a pan of bread, the dough for which Molly had started that morning, were making the kitchen smell heavenly. Molly had managed to distract Lucius from his own troubles by telling him about her children. She was in the middle of telling him the story about how a twelve year-old Bill had managed to accidentally turn himself magenta trying to break into her old diary that had been stored in a box in the attic when Arthur arrived home. "It must be pot-roast," he said as he entered through the back door. As he was in the middle of removing his cloak, he hadn't noticed Lucius sitting at the kitchen table, listening to Molly's story. "Something simply must be done about –" he stopped short when he saw who was sitting at his table.

"Good evening, Arthur," Molly said, getting up and pressing a mug of tea into Arthur's hands even as she took his cloak from him. "The children are off visiting friends for the weekend, and, yes, we are having a roast for supper." Lucius had stood while Molly had been talking, and Arthur's gaze didn't move from him.

Arthur absently sat the mug Molly handed him on the counter. "Lucius Malfoy."

Lucius nodded, "Arthur."

With the unexpected swiftness of a lightning strike out of a clear blue sky, both men crossed the width of the smallish kitchen and before Molly could do so much as yell at them to 'take it outside!' blows had been exchanged, and both men were on the floor. Arthur had a split lip from Lucius' signet ring, and Lucius had the beginnings of a spectacular black eye. Both had grayed out momentarily after being hit, but were still conscious. Molly stomped the few feet to them and stood with her hands crossed over her chest. "Are the two of you quite done with your testosterone-induced male posturing?"

Neither man could help their response. They looked from Molly to each other and suddenly burst out laughing. Molly was beginning to get impatient. "I fail to see what's so funny."

This just sent them both into stronger gales of guffaws. "Merlin, Artie… It's just like that time…"

"…in fourth year, I know." Slowly, their laughter faded. Lucius got to his feet first and pulled Arthur up. Arthur looked over Lucius with a cockeyed grin. "You look like a little girl's dress-up dolly, Luc."

Lucius rolled his eyes, "I know. What do you think I was these past thirty years? I aim to rectify the situation sometime this week. Does Molly Anne still cut hair?"

Arthur nodded, "Yeah, she does." Arthur and Lucius both turned to face Molly, who hadn't budged from her disapproving stance. "I think we…"

"…upset her. I think you might be…"

"Right? Of course I am. Do you think this means I have to…"

"Sleep on the sofa tonight? Probably, but don't let it worry you. I've got plenty of empty sofas…

"…at the Manor. So I can crash…"

"…at my place tonight? I don't see…"

"…why not." By this time both Arthur and Lucius were grinning at Molly.

Molly threw her hands up in exasperation, "I give up! I knew Fred and George got that from you, Arthur!" She spun around and proceeded to retrieve the bread and roast from the oven. "Men! They never grow up… always little boys…" assorted other grumblings were heard from her as she transferred the roast to a serving tray, gravy into a boat, and sliced the bread.

During dinner, Arthur brought Lucius up to speed on what Narcissa had been doing – via Lucius, of course – at the Ministry. Needless to say, Lucius was _not_ pleased. "Well, that's _got_ to stop," he said, referring to his financial support of Fudge. "I remember that little moron from school. He was what, two years ahead of us?" Arthur nodded. "He trolled-out of both Arithmancy and Charms, too, didn't he?" Arthur repeated his nod. "Who's next in line if I can get him out of office?" Though Lucius couldn't remember most of the last thirty years, he _had_ been raised to deal with politicians and politics.

"If it were brought to a vote tomorrow, I'd say it would be a toss-up between Amelia Bones and Rufus Scrimgeour," Arthur replied, then took another bite of roast.

"Bones… She was in our year, right? Gryffindor?"

"Yes, and now she's head of the MLE."

"I don't recognize the other. What can you tell me about him?"

Arthur took a swallow of his tea before replying. "He's older than we are by about ten years or so. He was Moody's first auror-apprentice. He's a lot like Moody, only without the paranoia and sense of humor."

Lucius nodded slowly, "And Bones? I would imagine she's not still the girl I remember from school."

Arthur laughed. "That she isn't, but she hasn't changed much. She's still more likely to follow what's _right_ rather than what is and isn't against the law. Personally, I'd take her as Minister before I took Scrimgeour, but _anyone_ would be better than Fudge."

"Hmm…" Lucius thought for a few moments. "I'll see about speaking to both of them privately in the next week or two."

The conversation turned from politics to quidditch, with Arthur filling Lucius in on all the World Cups he'd managed to 'sleep' through. Molly had a moment when Arthur told Lucius about the UK's hosting of that year's World Cup where she could clearly see the sixteen year-old Lucius once again. His grin wouldn't have looked out of place on either of the twins, nor would the sparkling excitement in his eyes.

After dinner was over with, Arthur and Lucius both headed into the sitting room while Molly cleaned up the dishes. Arthur retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey from its hiding place – glamoured to look like a particularly ugly vase on the mantle – and poured drinks for himself and Lucius. As he handed Lucius his drink, he answered the man's puzzled expression, "You try having six highly-inquisitive boys around, Luc. I found this was the safest place to hide it."

"In plain sight?"

Arthur shrugged, "How often do you think to examine the trinkets on the mantle for glamours?"

"Point," Lucius said, accepting the drink.

After a couple of minutes of somewhat awkward silence, Arthur finally said what he'd been thinking ever since he realized just who was in his kitchen. "You're not angry with me about Molly?"

Lucius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "No, Artie. There's a _lot_ I'm angry as hell about, but the fact that you and Molly Anne are together isn't one of them."

"Can I ask… Well, _why_?"

Lucius let out a mirthless chuckle. "How can I be angry at you for keeping your promise? You looked after her when I couldn't, and that means more to me than you will ever know." Lucius transferred his drink to his left hand and turned his palm up. A long, thin scar cut vertically across it, from just below his middle finger to the very edge of his palm. Spreading his fingers, he held his hand up and turned it so that Arthur could see the scar. "The best man truly won in this case, Artie."

Arthur looked to his own palm. In his case, the scar was on his left hand. He mimicked Lucius' stance, with his palm held up, facing Lucius, with the fingers spread. "Friends together?"

Lucius stepped closer and clasped Arthur's left hand with his right, "Friends forever."

* * *

**A/N2:** The updates on this book are going to run much slower than for the rest of my posted stories (I'd look for updates every other Sunday, if I were you), mainly because I'm having to recreate my original idea (since it was an unwilling sacrifice to the gods of temperamental computers) and my life has grown more hectic than I ever hoped. Just a friendly word of advice: Never, and I mean_ never_, wish for your life to be more interesting. 

Big thanks to my beta, Aurilia, without whom I would _still _be in a drunken stupor after realizing that _three months_ of work had just gone down the proverbial drain. Bigger thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this nonsense. It means I'm not wasting my time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Here ya go! See closing A/N for more info.

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Family Vacation**

The first weekend of Harry's summer vacation was spent hanging out with Ron, Percy, and Ginny. Saturday evening, A.J. stopped by for a little while and she and Percy disappeared for a couple of hours. Harry thought he knew what they were up to, but really didn't want to think too hard on it. A.J. was like a sister to him; really, they were closer to each other than they were to their own siblings, mainly because there was such an age-gap between them and A.J.'s sisters, and Harry's little brother and sister were still little kids.

As far as Harry was concerned, he knew he was starting to like looking at girls more than he used to, yet he wasn't sure how to talk to them. Hermione didn't count – she was 'one of the guys'. And, in all honesty, Ginny just wasn't someone he could look at like _that_. She was Ron's little sister, for starters. And though he could admire the way she stood up for herself, she was _Ron's little sister_. And Percy's. And the twins'. Even if he _was_ interested in her _that _way, there was no way he was going to go that route. He valued the boys' friendships far too much to ruin it all by dating someone who he found only marginally attractive. Besides, she was already an inch taller than he was.

"So, what are you doing for the rest of the summer?" Ron asked, looking up from his pool cue. Harry was showing him and Ginny how to play.

Harry shrugged, "Well, we're plannin' on takin' a real vacation. Gonna be gone a whole month."

"Where to?" Ginny asked.

"Gonna go see the Braves play the Marlins in Miami, then we're gonna spend some time in Orlando. See Disney World, Epcot, Universal Studios. Mom said somethin' 'bout maybe headin' down to the Keys an' seein' an old friend of her parents who'd moved there when he retired. When we're done down Florida-way, Mom an' Dad said I could spend the rest of the summer with my godfather in London. The only thing I know for sure that Sirius an' I'll be doin' is goin' to the World Cup."

Ron and Ginny, who had been listening politely up until that point, seized Harry's last sentence and took off running with it. Much of the remainder of their brief visit centered on quidditch talk concerning the upcoming championship game, much to Percy's thinly-veiled amusement. When the Weasleys went back home late Sunday evening, both Ginny and Ron had plans on trying to get their parents to score tickets to the game, too.

Though Harry had only been home from Hogwarts for just past a week, he had managed to finish up all his summer homework already; what he hadn't had done in the day or two before Percy, Ginny, and Ron showed up to visit was rapidly completed in the intervening four days. His mom had told him that their vacation to Florida would be canceled if it wasn't done before they were ready to leave. Aside from a single trip to Oklahoma to visit Little Bird shortly after his mom and dad married, the whole family had never taken a real vacation. He was looking forward to seeing his and Dave's favorite baseball team play in person, and was also looking forward to exploring Disney World and the Epcot Center; actually, he wasn't sure which held the majority of his excitement.

He checked his calendar for the hundredth time that day, and found that it was still July first. They wouldn't leave until the next morning. Harry sighed and flopped into his armchair. Had his mom not expressly forbidden him from doing so, he would have had his suitcase packed three days earlier. At shortly past noon, Dave showed up in his doorway. "Hey there, Hare-bear. Your mom's got the last of the details ironed out an' sent me ta tell ya ta go ahead an' pack. Ya still got that list she made?"

Harry immediately sprang to his feet, "Sure do."

Dave laughed, "Aurie and them lists of hers… I think the one she made for the Penbrokes was thirty pages long." A.J.'s folks had agreed to housesit and take care of the horses until the Brewers returned from Florida.

"I'd believe it, Dave," Harry shared a long-suffering look with his uncle. "A.J. still ain't tellin' me what she's up ta, but I'm kinda glad she's doin' _somethin'_ with her summer, else we mighta had ta bring her with."

Dave chuckled and readjusted his worn, white Stetson. "Mayhap so, Hare-bear. Mayhap so."

"You ain't lookin' forward to the flight, are ya?" Harry had known Dave long enough that he could easily see the nervousness his uncle was trying so desperately to hide.

"Damn, I thought ya mighta forgot 'bout that."

"Nope," Harry grinned. "Snakes, lightning, flyin'… There anythin' you _ain't_ nervous 'bout?"

Dave returned Harry's grin, "C'm on, Harry. Y'all know that snakes c'n be poisonous, an' I _know_ what happens to stuff 'at gets hit with lightnin' – what don't explode usually ends up cooked."

Harry shook his head a little, "Still don't explain why y'all don't like flyin' none."

Dave just shrugged, "C'n I help it if I believe that iffen God wanted us ta fly, he'd've made us with wings?"

"Ah, but didn't Gaia give us the ability to create wings of our own?"

Dave scoffed, "Gaia also gave us the ability ta level a city with a single bomb – don't make it a good idea, neither way."

Harry's uncle ducked out of the room before he could retaliate. _I hope that whatever Mom found for him to survive the plane trip without panicking works _really_ well._ Retrieving the list Aurilia had given him from his desk, he set to packing. Halfway through folding the clothes he wanted to take and tucking them into the proper places in his new suitcase, Cyrus ran into the room.

"Harry Harry Harry Harry!"

"What what what what?" Harry dropped the T-shirt he'd had a hold of and spun around to catch his overly-excited little brother in mid-leap.

"Mom said you have to help me pack!"

"She did, did she?" Harry grinned and tucked Cy under an arm and began tickling him. "What if I don't wanna, huh?"

"Stop," Cyrus managed to get out between giggles, "stop, please!"

Harry sat Cy lightly on his feet and helped the five year-old straighten out his shirt. Cyrus had the same sandy-blonde hair as Jim, but, like Harry and Aurilia, he had bright, bottle-green eyes. Unlike Harry and Aurilia – and Aurilia's father, as Harry had been told – Cyrus had yet to show any need for glasses. Cyrus was also going to be tall, likely _very_ tall. At five, he was already several inches taller than the other boys his age. "I'll come an' help y'all in a mo, Cy. I need ta finish m'own packin' first. Okay?"

Cyrus nodded enthusiastically, "Okie-dokie. Can I help?"

"Sure," Harry replied. "Why doncha hand me the stuff I ask for? Make sure ya don't unfold none of it, else it'll take all day to get packed, an' then we'll just hafta leave ya behind 'cause we didn't get ta your stuff." Harry had to laugh at the outraged expression on Cyrus' face before Cy finally realized he was being teased and zeroed in on Harry's primary ticklish spot – his ribs.

Aurilia, meanwhile, was just down the hall, packing a bag for Livia. She rolled her eyes at the good-natured teasing Harry was doing and mentally cheered Cy's retaliation. _Why'd I have to have boys? Liv is so much _less_ of a handful than those two, even when I take Harry's 'little' at-school adventures out of the equation. Honestly, Gaia, that boy is going to make every single hair on my head turn gray. However, I can't thank you enough for putting him in my path; I don't think I could love him more if he had been born to me._ Tucking the last of the clothing her littlest would need on their vacation into the suitcase, she shut it and made sure the address tag had all the necessary information. After she was done, she headed down to the kitchen to make some last-minute phone calls. Her apprentice, Carly, was going to mind the shop until they got back, the Penbrokes were going to take care of the horses and housesit. Amy had promised to make sure that their bills for the month were all paid while they were gone – their planned trip was going to last a full month. When they got back, Harry would be spending the remainder of the summer visiting his godfather and his friends from Hogwarts.

Dinner that night was simple fare; three large pizzas ordered from Casey's and picked up by Jim who had run after some of the items on Aurilia's list that she'd forgotten at the shop the day before – namely some sunburn ointment, bug-spray, and sunblock. Dave and Harry shared the sausage-and-olive-and-mushroom while Cyrus, Livia, and Aurilia each had some of the pepperoni. Jim had the plain cheese all to himself.

At seven o'clock, Aurilia made a special tea for all of them. It had chamomile, lavender, hibiscus, and valerian in it. Not only did it help to calm the excitement everyone was feeling, but it also made sure that they would all benefit from a good night's rest before getting up to catch their plane the next morning. She had a stronger concentration of the same concoction in a sealed vial in her purse so that Dave wouldn't have to suffer his phobia for too long the next day.

Amy had been kind enough to agree to take the Brewers to the Des Moines airport so that they wouldn't have to leave their minivan in storage for the time they'd be gone. Though their flight didn't leave until nine, they got to the airport at seven. They had a snack in the terminal's café before going through the check-in procedure.

At long last, the six Brewers headed down a long corridor towards their gate, boarding passes held firmly in hand. While waiting for boarding to begin, Dave stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows and watched as the planes took off and landed. After only a few minutes of this, he was looking decidedly pale. Aurilia asked the worker at the gate how long it would be before boarding began and was told 'only a few more minutes.' Taking the vial of sedative out of her purse, she handed it to Dave.

"It's that time, ain't it?" he asked. Aurilia nodded. Dave removed the wax-sealed cork and quickly tossed the contents into his mouth. The tea the night before had been overly floral in flavor, but not too bad. The contents of the vial, though, were _very_ floral and far too bitter to be mere tea. He swallowed and grimaced, handing the empty vial to Aurilia. "That's really gross, Aurie."

Aurilia shrugged a little, "I know, but it does the job. We should be on the plane before you start feeling sleepy. If we're not, try to stay awake until we are. I don't want to have to carry you." She smiled at her brother-in-law and threw the empty vial into a nearby trashcan.

Once onboard the jetliner, Harry had no difficulty finding his seat, G2. He was seated between Dave and the window, with his mom and Livia in the seats directly in front of him, and his dad and Cyrus in the seats directly behind. Dave had an odd gray cast to his complexion and was breathing a little too fast. Harry knew his uncle was scared of flying, which was probably the most irrational of the man's fears. Harry could understand Dave's fear of being struck by lightning; he'd been hit by it before, as his dad liked to recount during almost every summer storm, when they'd been children. Dave even had a long, twisted scar that went from his right shoulder crossed his back and continued all the way down to the sole of his left foot. Harry could even sort-of understand Dave's dislike of members of the serpent family – he had, after all, spent a large portion of his life living in areas where most of the native snakes tended to be deadly. He couldn't wrap his mind around Dave's dislike of flying, though. To Harry, there was only one other better place to be, and _that_ was on the back of a horse. It was the second-most-natural thing in the world.

"Hey, Harry," Jim's voice called from the seat behind him. "What do you know about the plane?"

Knowing that his dad was trying to distract Dave somewhat until the sedative Aurilia had given him took effect, Harry smiled. "It's a Boeing 767. It's got a range of just under 4000 miles an' a passenger capacity of 250. It's cruisin' speed is about 530 miles an hour. Lemme think…" Dave's breathing had started to slow down a little. Harry smiled and continued, "It's a little over 150 feet wide, 52 feet tall, an' 180 feet long. Has a cargo capacity of about a thousand cubic yards. If we take off on time, an' land on time, we should be in Miami just in time to catch lunch."

As predicted, Dave was snoring – loudly – well before the plane took off.

The flight was uneventful, and it took both Jim and Aurilia to get a highly-groggy Dave off of the conveyance, leaving Cy and Liv in the care of Harry. Two trips to a bathroom, eight claimed suitcases, and one rental car later, and the Brewers were finally out of the hustle and bustle of the airport. Relying heavily on a combination of Jim's innate sense of direction, Aurilia's map-reading skill, and Harry's keen instincts, they had no trouble locating their hotel for the next week.

When the bellhop showed the Brewers to their room, Harry suddenly realized that his mom had spared absolutely no expense on the trip – they had a two-bedroom suite that looked out over the ocean. The suite was done in a tasteful blend of dark woods, light wallpaper, and overstuffed cushions that bordered on being sinfully decadent. In fact, if he closed his eyes, Harry could almost _smell_ the money in the air and it was a distinctly different green scent than that of Iowa. After the bellhop had finished the miniature tour of the suite and left, Aurilia sighed and stretched. "I'm glad we're finally here. Harry, you and Cy will take the second bedroom, Liv is going to sleep with your dad and me, and Dave… You get the couch."

Dave smiled, yawned, and said, "Ah, I see how ya are."

Aurilia laughed a little tiredly, "Well, if that doesn't suit you, there's always the floor."

Dave chuckled, "No, ma'am, I'm just grateful I don't gotta be sharin' with nobody."

Jim snorted, "You'd like as ta beat 'em bloody in your sleep, iffen ya did. This way, no one ain't gettin' hurt none."

"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I could do with a nap," Aurilia sat Livia down on the immaculate floor. "I think I ought to make sure these two get a little nap, too. They didn't sleep on the plane."

"Which is more than I can say for _some_ folk," Jim ruffled Cy's hair while leveling a mocking glare at Dave.

Dave merely shrugged, "Well, _I _ain't tired none. Lil' out of it still, but I aim ta find me a cup o' joe an' fix it. What 'bout y'all?" he asked Harry and Jim.

"Naw, I'm gonna see iffen I c'n catch the news," Jim replied.

"I'll go with ya," Harry wasn't too keen on the idea of spending such a beautifully sunny afternoon cooped up in the hotel. He hoped that Dave would go with him down to the beach.

Dave waited while Harry changed into a pair of swimming trunks and a T-shirt. Dave didn't see the point in changing; he wasn't going to go swimming unless it was in a nice, safe, chlorinated, shark-free swimming pool. He'd learned his lesson on being reckless quite well, thank you very much, and still had the scar to prove it. Once Harry had changed, the two of them rode in the elevator back down to the ground floor. After Dave fortified himself with a cup of strong, black coffee from the hotel's restaurant, the two walked out a side door to a shady paved area. The hotel pool was nearby, and the air smelled of mingled chlorine and salt. A small sign directed them to the beachfront.

When a brief burst of sea-salty air threatened to make off with his hat, Dave pulled his Stetson down a little more securely on his head and walked a half-step behind Harry. "Excited 'bout the game tomorrow?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. You still ain't told me how you managed to get Founder's Club Box Seats." Harry cast a questioning glance over his shoulder at Dave.

Dave shrugged, "I know a guy that knows a guy that owed a favor or three. Don't worry 'bout it none."

"Ya know, we're bound ta get lynched, rootin' for the Braves in the Founder's seats of the Marlin's stadium." The two of them exited the shady area and started walking across the sandy beach.

Dave laughed, "Pro'ly."

"They won the game on the thirtieth, lost the one yesterday… How ya think they'll do today?"

"Dunno, kiddo. Don't matter. What matters is how they do come tomorrow."

"Ya mind iffen I go swimmin'?" Harry asked, gesturing to the ocean.

"Be careful. I don't wanna hafta tell Aurilia ya got ate by no shark, y'hear?"

Harry grinned, nodded, and took off across the remaining stretch of sand at a run. "Well, that's not something I see every day – cowboy boots on the beach?" a female voice asked. Dave turned around and saw a pretty blonde woman lounging on a reclining beach chair, wearing a bright blue bikini with matching sunglasses and sipping something that sported a paper umbrella. She nodded in the direction Harry had run, "Cute kid, he yours?"

"No, ma'am. He's my nephew."

The woman smiled, "The compliment still stands. I'm Marie Kimmel." She took off her sunglasses and held out her hand.

"Dave Brewer, Ms. Kimmel."

"Please, call me Marie. Why don't you pull up a spot of sand and join me for a bit?"

"Thankee kindly, ma'am." Dave sat near her beach chair. "What brings y'all ta Miami?"

Marie rolled her eyes as she sighed melodramatically, "I'm technically here on business, but the man I was supposed to meet with delayed our meeting until the day after tomorrow, so I get a bit of a vacation in the meanwhile."

"What business ya in, iffen ya don't mind my askin'?"

"I'm a buyer."

Dave quirked an eyebrow, "Pardon?"

Marie laughed a little, "I'm a buyer. I work for a jewelry store in New York. It's my job to travel to different places to buy gold, silver, gemstones, et cetera for the store. What about you, Dave? What do you do for a living?"

Dave shrugged his shoulders, "Ain't nothin' flashy like y'all, but I like it. I work on the family ranch. My sister-in-law," he nodded towards where Harry was diving enthusiastically into the ocean waves, "breeds horses. Me an' my brother keep things runnin' smoothly for her."

"So this is vacation?"

Dave nodded, "Yeah. We ain't never had a family vacation afore."

"Why not?"

"Well, at first it just weren't practical – the stables needed settin' up an' all. An' then Harry, my nephew, started goin' to a boardin' school overseas, so any vacation had to be in the summer, an' that's usually the busy time of year for us. Then Aurilia, that's his mom, an' my brother had another couple of kids."

"So why now?"

Dave shrugged, "I s'pose it's 'cause ev'rythin' finally settled some, an' Liv an' Cy, that's Harry's brother an' sis, are finally old enough not ta be a major hassle on a long trip."

"How old are they?"

"Harry's gonna be fourteen come the thirty-first, an' Cy is five. Livia is three," Dave fidgeted a little more with his hat. "What 'bout you, Marie? You got any kids?"

Marie shook her head, "Nope. I never really wanted any; I've looked after my little brother ever since our parents were killed when we were teenagers, so I think I've done my bit."

Dave bowed his head, "Sorry. That had to've been rough."

"We managed. Mike's going to college now; he'll graduate in another semester with a degree in engineering." Marie beckoned for one of the hotel waiters who serviced the private beach area to come over. She ordered a refill for herself and a beer for Dave. She and Dave continued talking with each other for quite a while before Harry interrupted them. Dave was surprised to see how much time had passed; it was nearing sundown already.

"C'm on, Dave. Mom an' Dad're pro'ly wonderin' where we got off ta." Harry started off by shouting, but was down to a normal speaking voice by the time he arrived where his uncle was sitting with a pretty blonde.

"Oh, damn," Dave muttered, glancing at his watch. "We been out here for hours."

Marie smiled, "Time does fly, doesn't it?"

"That it do, Marie," Dave replied, tucking his grandpa's watch back into his pocket. "Harry, this is Marie Kimmel. Marie, this is my nephew, Harry Brewer."

"Pleased ta meet ya, ma'am," Harry smiled at the woman.

Marie nodded at him, "Ditto. You might want to stop by the shower near the pool."

Harry looked down at himself and laughed, "I'll do that." He was covered in sand.

After Dave had made his farewell to Marie, he and Harry had no trouble locating the courtesy shower not far from the hotel's pool area. Drying off with a towel that sported the hotel's logo, Harry asked, "So… Who was that?"

"Just someone I met."

Harry smirked a little. _Dave always is a little closemouthed about the girls he likes._ "She here on vacation, too?"

"No, she's on a business trip."

Harry tossed the towel to land in a nearby bin for used towels. "And…?"

"And what?"

Harry laughed, "Come on! Spill! You like her, doncha?"

Dave shrugged and tipped his hat. "Mayhap so, Hare-bear."

"She like you back?"

"Dunno."

_I hope so,_ Harry thought with a tiny grin on his face. _You need someone in your life that ain't family._

For dinner that night, the Brewers ordered room-service and watched a Disney cartoon on the suite's big-screen.

The next day, Dave and Harry took a cab to Joe Robbie Stadium. Though Dave had gotten four tickets to go see the game, only the two of them ended up going. Jim and Aurilia were going to spend the day entertaining Cyrus and Livia down on the beach. After reaching the stadium, Dave bought a couple of souvenirs for the both of them while Harry said he was going to head to the bathroom.

Instead of finding the bathroom, though, Harry had their two extra tickets in his pocket. He didn't want them to go to waste – they were_ excellent_ seats. About the same time that Dave joined the line for snacks and soda, Harry spotted a likely target lingering near the ticket booth. It consisted of an old man wearing a Marlins cap and a guy that was probably only a year or two older than Harry wearing a similarly-themed t-shirt. "I told you we shoulda bought the tickets ahead of time, Gramps," the kid said just as Harry got close enough to hear. "Now we're gonna be stuck up in the cheaps."

Harry put on his best smile and stepped a little closer. "Excuse me?"

"Whacha need, youngling?" the old man asked.

Harry reached into his pocket. "Is it just the two of you today, sir?"

The old man nodded. "Aye. What's it to ya?"

"My uncle got us four tickets for the game, but we only ended up needin' two of them. I thought y'all might like the extras," Harry handed the tickets to the old man. "See ya in the stands, I guess." He took off before they could reply and shortly joined Dave in the line. A couple of veritable buckets of soda and some nachos were obtained before they located their seats, as promised, in the Founder's Club Box Seats, directly behind home plate. When Dave asked what Harry did with the extra tickets, Harry just shrugged a little, jerking his thumb behind them. The old man and his grandson were in the seats directly behind Harry and Dave. Dave chuckled and would have replied, but the game was about to begin.

The game started with the traditional mangling of the national anthem before the first pitch. Harry and Dave did collect a fair share of dirty looks from the Marlins fans for cheering on the Braves, but no one was overly rude about it. There was just something about the day that lent itself to making sure everyone was happy. _It's almost like someone cast a cheering charm on the stadium,_ Harry thought when the peanut vendor accidentally hit a fan in the head with his salty snack and they both just laughed it off. There wasn't anything wizardly about it, though. It was just one of those days where everything was bright and cheerful and all was well with the world.

The Braves won, much to Harry's and Dave's joy, 12-6, and as they fought their way out of the mass of fans on their way to their cars, someone called out for them to wait. "Hey! Dave! Harry! Wait up!"

Dave stopped and turned around. Harry couldn't see who was calling after them, but judging by the grin that graced his uncle's face – superseding even the smile he'd been wearing at the close of the baseball game – it was someone Dave _really_ liked. Harry was right. It was Marie.

When she caught up to them, Dave had managed to reign in his grin a little. "Marie. I didn't know you was gonna be here."

"I could say the same," she replied. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity, though."

"_Please_ tell me ya weren't here ta see the Marlins."

Marie laughed, "Hell no! Didn't I tell you? I grew up in Atlanta."

Dave shook his head, "No, ya didn't. Great game, though, wasn't it?"

"What I could see of it," she replied, still laughing a little. "I was stuck up in the nosebleeds."

"Better than not bein' here at all."

"True," Marie started walking, and Harry and Dave kept pace with her. "You two here with your family?"

Harry answered, "No. Mom an' Dad took my little brother and sister to the beach today."

"Need a lift back to the hotel?" she offered, digging her keys out of her purse.

"That'd be much appreciated," Dave said, "but only iffen y'all lemme buy ya dinner."

Marie looked up from her purse and smiled, her dark blue eyes glinting in the bright sunlight of the early evening. "That sounds like a deal to me."

The ride back to the hotel didn't take long, and Harry rejoined his family for the evening, discussing possible places at which to spend the remainder of their week in Miami before they would head to Orlando for another week. Once everything had been decided on, Jim and Aurilia put Liv and Cy down for the night and joined Harry in watching a special on the Discovery Channel on the animals of the African Savannah. When it was over, Harry's mom and dad retired to their own bed and Harry channel-surfed for a little while before stumbling on a movie he'd been wanting to see. The credits had just started to roll when Dave returned to the hotel room. Harry yawned, stretched, and clicked off the television. "Have a nice date?" he asked, as he turned around.

Dave was leaning on the low counter separating the kitchen area from the living area, sporting a rather suspicious bruise where his neck merged with his shoulder and a broad grin. Harry snickered and said, "Never mind. Question answered."

Dave just chuckled and nodded.

"Sleep well," Harry said, still snickering as he made his way to first the bathroom and then some sleep of his own.

The next day, July fourth, was another brightly sunny day. Aurilia had arranged to rent a boat for the day, and Harry learned quite a bit about sailing from the man who owned it. They watched the fireworks from it that night before heading back to the hotel. Over the next four days, the Brewers spent time going to a water-park, several museums, and other local attractions. No matter where they went, though, Harry just couldn't get over the fact that there were palm trees everywhere. Real, live palm trees. Growing outside. Year-round. Aurilia was pretty sure they impressed him more than the ocean.

When their time in Miami drew to a close, the Brewers drove their rented minivan the three and a half hours to Orlando, where they checked in to yet another classy hotel. They spent two days exploring Disney World, and another two days going through first the Epcot Center and then Universal Studios. A day at Sea World was enjoyable for everyone, particularly Livia, who got to pet a nurse shark, a sea lion, and two dolphins. Cyrus was more impressed with watching the animals from the underwater viewing areas than interacting with them. Harry and Dave both preferred the rides to the animal attractions.

On their sixth day in Orlando, a day which had been set aside to hopefully recover somewhat from sunburn and rest, Harry and Dave were playing a friendly game of Gin down near the hotel's pool when a familiar voice sounded from just behind them. "Well, well, well. This is a pleasant surprise!"

Dave's head spun around so fast that Harry had the thought that had it not been attached it may have gone rolling across the tiled floor. "Marie!"

"Hi, Dave. Harry," she nodded to them both. "Is it my imagination, or do the two of you spend inordinate amounts of time together?"

"A lil' bit of both, I reckon," Dave replied. "Pull up a chair, Harry here was just kicking my ass at Gin."

Marie grinned, "Deal me in for the next game. I'll spot you both five bucks and ten points each."

Dave's expression melted into a smirk, "Now, Marie, I don't hold none with cheatin', not even iffen it keeps y'all's money in your pocket."

Marie's eyes narrowed a little at that, "Just deal the cards."

Harry snorted in an attempt to swallow down his laughter and did as the good lady bid him. Half an hour later, Dave was laughing at Marie's thunderstruck expression while Harry counted out his winnings – the terms had been fifty cents per point, and he'd won with a hearty eighty point lead.

Unwisely, Dave said, "I _tried_ ta warn ya."

Marie merely glared at him and stole the deck of cards, "I demand a rematch. I don't think I've _ever_ lost that badly before. It has to be a fluke!"

She shuffled and dealt the requisite nine cards, skipping Dave when he indicated he was content to merely watch this time. Holding them in her hand, she shuffled them around and found that she had a run of the three to six of hearts, two queens, and the nine and ten of spades. The remaining two cards were an ace of spades and a two of diamonds.

Harry glanced down at his own hand, not bothering to rearrange anything. He had a jack of spades, a three of clubs, a five of diamonds, a jack of clubs, a five of spades, the ace of diamonds, the king of spades, the jack of hearts, and a five of diamonds. His habit of not rearranging his hand was the primary reason he always won at card games with Little Bird – it made it so that she had absolutely no idea what he had in his hand or how close he was to reaching his goal. To add to Marie's confusion, Harry picked up the six of spades from the discard pile and replaced it with his three of clubs. Marie drew from the deck and discarded the two of diamonds, which Harry snapped up quickly. The king of spades landed in its place.

Marie looked thoughtful for a moment before drawing from the deck again. The card she drew immediately was discarded, and Harry smiled. It was the three of diamonds. He picked it up, rearranged his hand so that all three fives were together, as were the jacks, and the run of ace through three, and tossed the six of spades face down on the discard pile, "Gin."

Marie growled a little and added up the points in her hand. "Forty-five," she tersely announced.

Dave noted it on the score sheet while Harry picked up the cards and shuffled. He dealt the cards quickly. He had two possible sets and a run that was missing a four. He got the four from his first draw off the deck, but was still lacking a two when Marie ended the hand. Harry announced his points to Dave, "Seven."

"Seven?" Marie's smile fell. "How on earth can you only have seven points?"

Harry laid his hand down. "Already have a full set of kings, an' a run, too. Two twos an' a three make seven, last time I checked," Harry replied, pointing out the cards in question.

The next twenty minutes passed in a similar manner. This time, Harry won with a full hundred-point lead. Chuckling softly, Dave asked, "Did ya wanna get beat a third time runnin', or have y'all had enough?"

Marie looked from Dave's amused expression to Harry's smug little smirk and sighed, handing Harry a fifty from her wallet. "No… I think you've stole quite enough of my pocket money for now."

Harry laughed, "Ya know, I don't really want your money, ma'am." He held the two twenties and the fifty out to her. "I normally don't play cards for more'an a candy bar."

Marie shook her head, "Tell you what, kiddo, you can keep it if you can tell me how you managed to win so easily." Dave had often wondered that himself, so he sat back and listened intently.

Shrugging, Harry set the money down on the table next to the pile of playing cards. "Well, I don't rearrange my hand. There's only nine cards, so ya should be able ta remember 'em without too much difficulty. That makes it harder for the person you're playin' ta guess how close ya are ta goin' out. It also helps if ya keep your options open with the cards ya take – don't get all set on thinkin' ya_ need_ a particular card. Iffen ya don't get it in a round or two, aim for somethin' else. I also like ta confuse folks by changin' around the cards that don't matter ta me; one discard card is just like the next, so why hang on to an ace iffen ya don't need it none?" Harry's somewhat lopsided grin resurfaced, "Other than that, though, I reckon it's mostly luck."

Marie laughed at that and Dave joined in. Harry took that as his cue to leave the two of them alone. "I'm gonna head up to the suite, Dave. See iffen Mom an' Dad need anythin'."

After their stint in Orlando drew to a close, it was time for the Brewers to head south again, this time heading for Key West along the Overseas Highway. The remaining two weeks was spent at Aurilia's 'Uncle' Jack's beachfront house. Harry got to learn quite a bit about his adoptive grandparents from Jack and about his mom when she'd been a kid. Jack, for his part, was a sweet guy with a fondness for deep-sea fishing, though his forty-year run as a professor of Archaeology was blatantly apparent in both his preferred topics of discussion and the numerous decorations in his home.

By the time their vacation had drawn to a close, everyone was sporting deep tans – except for Aurilia. She seemed to simply burn and peel in the sun. It was all good, though. It had been a wonderful trip, but everyone was looking forward to going home. Dave, especially. Though he hadn't come right out and said as much, Harry was reasonably sure that he and Marie had promised to keep in touch.

* * *

**A/N2: **And here's where the second chapter drew to a natural close. I apologize for not having this out on Sunday, like I said I would, but my internet connection's been fritzing out lately due to all the snow melting and then flooding and then refreezing. I also had to double-check the information I had regarding what was available for touristy things in Orlando. I've never been to Florida, so it took a great deal of research to get those details (particularly the name of the Marlins' stadium – apparently _that_ changed a few years back; it was different in 1994). 

In any case, I hope this was enjoyable for everyone. And look for the next update in about two weeks!


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